Monster
by krissyg927
Summary: My attempt to write a Mac one shot, I have tried before and they always seem to end up being longer than I intend. I think I wrapped this one up pretty good though, i've been working on this one a little while, in between my other stuff. Let me know what you think. The usual Mac warnings apply. Mac breaks into a house in the middle of the night with bad intentions.


AN: This is my I don't know what number attempt to write a Mac one shot, for some reason, he won't be limited to just a few lines I guess. Go figure right? So many of my multi-chapters started as one-shots; I tried though so let me know what you think :) Maybe it's me, or maybe it's him, I don't really know. Anyway, we'll see, I also have a raging toothache and am up in the middle of the night which is just the perfect time to write this, lol. Next, I'm going to start the sequel to "Lucifer's Kiss" so Mac and Claudia can go for round two. But this is just a bunch of smut, no plot at all.

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Oops, did you think there would be no music? Hahahahahaha, come on now.

"A wild ride, over stony ground.  
Such a lust for life, the circus comes to town,  
We are the hungry ones, on a lightning raid.  
Just like a river runs, like a fire needs flame, oh  
I burn for you."  
Animal by Def Leopard

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The house was like any other on the street with the rock driveway and lawn that needed attention. No man lived there, he knew, that only her. Houses that had a shitty lawn usually meant a single girl lived there, that had been Mac's experience so far, and this was something he had a lot of experience with. This was not the first house he broke into or the tenth, it was number twenty-three and the police were no closer to finding out his identity then they had been after the first.

He stood in her dark backyard and smoked cigarette after cigarette, listening to the night. There were no sounds except crickets and occasional small critters in the woods behind her house. Her neighbors were inside their houses living their lives, unaware that a killer was among them.

She was not the first woman, but they were all like the first to him, and he kept something from each of them, jewelry, a piece of clothing, something, anything that he could look at and relive it. He stashed his stash between the floorboards in his house and no one but him knew it was there.

Tonight she was at work, his special girl; Layla worked 3-11 Monday, Wednesday, and Friday at the hospital in the ER. Mac was familiar with every part of her life, this was his life's work to know everything about her before they met in person.

She wouldn't be home for three hours tonight and by then he would be long gone. He planned to stay longer tomorrow night, when she was off from work, when they could be alone together, without interruption. Tonight he was leaving things he would need the next night, the rope, the belt, the knife, something to gag her with if he wanted; his tools so to speak, would be hidden under the window seat in her living room. Layla stored extra blankets there and it was July in Utah, so she would never find his things; Layla would never know that he had been in her house.

Careful of the potted plants she had on the back deck as he approached her house from the woods, he jimmied the lock on her back door and was inside in seconds. It was dark and the moon hung full in the sky and shined into the skylights of her kitchen.

Directly in front of him was the refrigerator and he opened it, pleased that she had beer. He reached in and took a bottle from the six-pack she had in there popped the top and took a long pull from the bottle.

The beer tasted good on his tongue and he drank it greedily, enjoying taking this from her first. He would tell her about it and how it made him feel to drink her beer in her kitchen while she was at work.

He was getting hard.

For a long time Mac stood in her kitchen looking around, she had simple taste as he expected and nothing was out of place. He picked up a notepad from the center island where she had started a shopping list and put it down on the table. Mac enjoyed doing these little things, maybe she would wonder how it got moved when she saw it, maybe she would think she had done it. Probably.

When he finished the beer he put it in the garbage pail, even though there was a recycling can next to it. He didn't recycle, but it was nice that she did and again, Mac wanted to see if she noticed, he planned to ask her tomorrow night. Did you notice a beer gone from your refrigerator? The moved notepad? The bottle in the garbage pail? The underwear he planned to steal?

He could almost bet she wouldn't notice any of it. In the security of your own home, you take things for granted, especially if you lived alone. He knew that, he lived alone himself. Who else would have moved the pad she would tell herself that she must have and forgotten it. Layla would forget about it, even tell herself that she had drunk the beer and forgotten, but she would know as soon as she woke up tomorrow night and realized she was not alone. When she realized there was a monster in her home.

 _Layla, you got me on my knees, Layla._

Was she named after the song? He would ask her that too, and she would answer him, she would answer all of his questions. Then she would do what he wanted and maybe she would live through the night.

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Next, he went to her bedroom, to learn the layout for the next night. It would do no good to trip over something and wake her before he was ready to. Of course, he did all of this in darkness, his eyes were used to it now and they adjusted easily. She had a queen sized bed with a lattice headboard and he smiled at that. He would not have to use the bar he brought to tie her hands to, but he would have to remember to take it out of the window seat. Mac never left any evidence, even if he didn't kill the victim, and sometimes he didn't; but he always cleaned up his mess.

There was a picture on her dresser of her and a younger version of her, a sister perhaps. He picked it up, looked at it, "I'll be seeing you..." He said to no one, to her.

In her bathroom he found the hamper, he dumped it on the floor, reached down and picked out a pair of lacy black underwear. With a grin, he brought them to his face and inhaled deeply, then a t-shirt and did the same thing. She wore Opium perfume, he recognized it immediately, one of the girls he banged on the regular back home wore it too. Placing both items on the counter, glancing at himself in the mirror her unzipped and pulled out his cock.

He was fifty miles away from home, in a strange woman's bathroom, stroking his dick as he smelled her clothing and it was almost as good as it would be tomorrow when he had her for real. It had been weeks that he had stalked her, got to know her routine as she went about her days and now their meeting was imminent.

That was the thought going through his head as he blew his load into her t-shirt. He shoved the shirt and the panties into his back pocket, it was time to go. Everything for the next night was ready, he locked her back door as he left.

"(And I want, and I need)  
(And I lust, animal)  
(And I want, and I need)  
(And I lust, animal)  
Cry wolf, given mouth-to-mouth,  
Like a movin' heartbeat in the witching hour.  
I'm runnin' with the wind, a shadow in the dust,  
And like the drivin' rain, yeah, like the restless rust,  
I never sleep."

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Mac watched her through her window as he smoked his cigarette on the side of the house. Then another, he was waiting for her to go to sleep. It would be just as easy to go take her now, but he preferred, well, to scare them. It got him hard when they suddenly woke up and saw him there; the fear that radiated off a woman who woke up to a strange man in her room was like nothing else to him.

He always chose professional women, lawyers, nurses, business women and tonight was no different. Layla was a doctor, far above him socially, and that was part of the thrill. Controlling a woman that would never look twice at him on the street was sweet, he lived for that, the power was addicting and he was corrupted by it.

It was almost time, she was reading in bed and he knew she would fall asleep on her stomach with the TV on. Then he would make his move.

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"I gotta feel it in my blood, whoa oh.  
I need your touch, don't need your love, whoa oh.  
(And I want, and I need),  
(And I lust, animal).  
(And I want, and I need),  
(And I lust, animal) huh, ah.  
Cry wolf, baby, cry tough,  
Gonna hunt you like an, an, an, an, an animal."

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Layla's eyes opened suddenly and she was aware of three things right away, there was something heavy and hard on top of her, pushing her face first into her mattress, she wasn't alone and she could feel someone's breath on her neck. She had fallen asleep at her usual time, in her usual position on her stomach with the TV on and now it was off. This was no dream, this was no nightmare; this was for real.

"Layla," He hissed into her ear and she died inside at the fact that he knew her name, "You wanna live through this night?"

Layla nodded her head and he relaxed his grip on her, "Good girl," He crooned into her ear and watched as goosebumps erupted all over her neck. Then he pressed his dick into the back of her thighs, "We're gonna have some fun you and me."

Mac reached under and grabbed her breast, swiped his fingers across her nipple and licked her neck, long and smooth like he was licking an ice cream cone. Layla bucked her ass up trying to get him off of her but he didn't move at all.

She responded despite her fear, Layla felt her body stir and she was horrified and furious with herself. This was not going to happen, and if it did, she was not going down without a fight. This mother fucker was going to get the fight of his life.

Layla screeched, flipped herself over and scratched his face before he knew what hit him, "Oh a real hellcat are ya?" He groaned, "You're making me love you."

Mac slammed her arms down over her head and pressed against her, spreading her legs with one of his. Layla pushed her hips up, trying to get him off of her so she could kick him in the dick. He was pushing her down onto the bed with such force, but she couldn't stop. She did not want this.

"Get off of me!" She yelled, and the first of the slaps came onto her face, "Motherfucker!" She tried to hit him back, but he was strong and took her hands in one of his, Layla knew she was screwed. But she had a new mission now, memorizing his face, remembering his blue eyes to tell the police about in great detail. If she made it through the night.

They fought each other fiercely but in the end, he won, of course, he outweighed her and outmuscled her. Layla screamed, hoping someone would hear her, but knowing it was futile, no one slept with their windows open, especially her.

"I can make this good or bad, your choice," He yelled back at her as he pummeled her face, then he leaned down and bit her chest right by her collarbone. Layla screamed, but it was no use, no one was coming to help her.

He subdued her quickly after that and produced the rope from his bag of tricks that he retrieved from the window seat before he entered her room.

"So what's it gonna be?" Mac asked as he looked down at her, "You gonna behave."

Layla was dazed from being hit and the pain from the bite in her chest she just nodded and hoped he wouldn't hurt her too much.

Mac tied the ropes around her wrists and threaded them through the headboard. He straddled her and gazed down at her, she had on a cream colored silk nightgown with lace around the edges. Licking his lips as he let his eyes roam over her, Mac smiled at her. She watched as her blood dripped down his chin and his tongue slid out of his mouth again to catch it.

"Thanks for wearing something sexy for me." He slid his hand over his lips to wipe the blood away and

ran his hands over her body, her sides and over her breasts again, she kicked out and Mac grinned and shook his head.

"Gonna have to tie your legs too I see, ain't you a firecracker." He seemed to enjoy her fighting and that scared her very much.

Then he tied her feet, each to the corresponding side of the bottom board so her legs were apart. Mac stood up and admired his handiwork, she was tied to the bed secure and beautiful. He ran his hand through his hair and watched her; Layla was breathing heavy with fear and then he took his knife out of the sheath of his belt.

Mac watched as her eyes went wide, "Aw, no, I ain't gonna cut you," He crawled over her and pushed her nightgown up revealing her matching underwear. Then he slid the knife up over her thigh, watching for her reaction. She sucked in her breath again as he brought it over the front of her panties, "Even though you asked for it, by being so feisty."

Layla was helpless and she knew it, she considered what was her best move in this situation, he liked that she fought back, he was smiling when he said that. She had to think quick, do what he wants and make it through this.

"Please, just...I'll do whatever you want," She said, letting her pride go out the window, this was no time to be proud.

He nodded, "Yes you will." He ran the knife along her belly and then down lower in a grotesque unmistakable sexual manner. Mac dragged his eyes up to hers and met them, "You like?"

Every cell in her body cried out no, but she nodded her head, attempting to please him and diffuse any idea of his to hurt her. Or to hurt her more.

" Oh, oh, Layla," He cut the small loops of her panties on each side, "I ain't dumb, I know damn well that ain't true, but it's my plan to change that."

She pulled at the restraints but it was no use, he had her tied tight. Then he leaned down and kissed her dirty, shoving his tongue into her mouth and sliding it against hers, fucking her mouth. Layla couldn't take it, she was not french kissing a rapist, so she bit his lip and Mac pulled back; she expected to get hit again but he smiled.

"I dig it, Layla, I really do and I can kiss you elsewhere, that ain't a problem," Then his lips were on her neck sucking softly where he had bitten her, "You named after the song?" He said as he wiped his hand over his lip, "By Eric Clapton?"

She didn't answer all she could think about was rinsing her mouth with Listerine and he yanked her hair hard and smacked her again.

"I speak and you answer me," He put his hand to her throat and squeezed just hard enough, "Now, Layla, are you named after the song?"

"Yes," She answered quietly, "Of course."

"That's what I thought," his hands slid down to her breasts one in each hand and he groaned, Layla closed her eyes and willed herself not to react. It was what he wanted, then she felt his thumbs brush over her nipples and she sucked in a breath, "Ah, now that, you like." He boasted and she shook her head.

It annoyed him that she wouldn't admit it, he could tell she was turned on, it happened a lot to the women he attacked. It was biology, and nothing they could do about it; their bodies were wired that way, but she continued to hold back any response.

Never a guy to give up easily, he leaned down and sucked her right nipple through the satin nightgown, and pinched the other one between his thumb and forefinger. Layla groaned and her eyes closed, now he was getting somewhere and he leaned down to her ear.

"Who's the powerful doctor now?" He asked as he swiped his tongue over her peaked nipple until the front of her gown was soaked, "Bet you're nice and wet for me too?" He reached down between her legs and grinned when he felt her warm and wet, "Yeah, that's nice..."

"Get off me!" Layla hissed, and his hand that was on her breast came up and squeezed her neck again.

"You ain't in no position to be giving me orders now are ya?" Mac hissed back, "I asked you if you want to live? Do ya? Or should I snap your neck right now?"

She nodded and he pulled his hand away from her throat.

"Then take it!" He brought his lips to hers and hovered above but didn't kiss her, "Quit running your mouth," He sucked on her neck and went lower with hot, wet kisses down over her body. His hands came over her thighs, followed by his mouth and she knew what he meant to do.

"Don't," She whispered and he glared up at her as he spread her thighs apart further, she bucked again when she felt his mouth on her inner thigh.

"I told ya this is happening," Then he licked her with the flat of his tongue from back to front, "Don't be that way when I'm nice enough to go down on you."

"Jesus," She whispered, unable to wrap her head around so many things. Why did it feel...good.

"No, I ain't Jesus, my name is Mac, remember my name, you'll be screaming it in a few minutes," He said with a wink, but that scared her, he said his name, "I like my girls to be satisfied."

Layla pulled at her restraints as he brought his fingers over her soft flesh and pushed two fingers inside her deep, her body bucked up and she moaned, much to Mac's satisfaction.

"Be a good girl Layla," He swirled his tongue over her pussy in waves, "And I'll get you off."

She gritted her teeth in protest and he laughed as he moved his fingers in and out of her, and slid his tongue over her swollen clit. Layla was determined not to give in, that was what he wanted, and she tried to fight the rising fire inside of her.

He ate pussy like a professional and soon she realized her efforts to remain silent and not cum were not going to work. Her body, that she thought she knew so well was betraying her with every sensation he was giving her.

"Come on Layla, let it go," He murmured against her thigh, "I wanna hear you..."

Mac upped the ante, opened his mouth wide and shoved his tongue inside of her and she broke into a million pieces, hating herself the entire time. Intellectually she knew, he had gotten her so stressed out that her body just reacted, and it craved some kind of relief from it.

It was all biology.

He didn't stop, Mac drank her in like the finest wine and continued as she screamed, her body shook with pleasure and he still didn't stop. His cock was raging hard now, almost painful and he reached down to adjust himself and relieve some of the pressure.

Mac palmed his dick as he continued the sweet torture that she swore she didn't want and that he knew she had to have. He knew his way around a woman's body, he knew how to get them going every time. Nothing got him off more than getting someone off when they didn't want it to happen. He was a sick fuck, he knew that.

"Oh fuck, no, oh fuck stop, I can't take it," She moaned as he swiped his tongue over her pulsating pussy, "Please stop."

He didn't stop and soon she was off like a rocket again, screaming and cursing him again. He smiled against her thigh and kissed her there.

"You fucking bastard, I fucking hate you," She cried as the second orgasm rushed through her body, from her scalp to the bottoms of her feet.

Mac rose up on his knees and unbuckled his pants, she could hear the clank of his buckle and the sound make chills wash over her spine, "I think you like me just fine, right about now." And then he was inside of her without any hesitation. Mac let out a groan as he came down on his elbows and met her eyes, "You like it, admit it."

Layla stayed closed mouthed as he pushed against her hard, fucking her with all he had and forcing the air out of her lungs with a grunt. She would make noise whether she wanted to or not.

"Oh, God!" She uttered.

Then he smiled, he always got what he wanted. Always.

He brought the knife up in his hand, and briefly, Layla was afraid again, "Oh, no!" She cried until Mac cut her hands loose as he moved in and out of her.

"Put your arms around me, touch me," He demanded and she did as he wanted, he hadn't killed her and she had been sure it was over just then. She wrapped her arms around him and danced her fingers over his back. His body was hard, firm against her and as she touched him her mind was filled with nothing but the thought of that huge cock going in and out of her, it was shattering every part of her, ripping her apart.

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He fucked her twice more that night and the third time her cut her legs free and instructed her to wrap her legs around him. She did as she was told and he moaned out loud at the feel of her ankles crossed behind him. Layla was finally playing ball with him.

Mac flipped her over onto her stomach and pulled her hips back against him, shoved her face into the pillow. While he entered her from behind he pulled her hair back and slid his fingers between her legs.

"Say you want it," He instructed.

"I want it," She panted as his skillful fingers circled her clit, then swiped down on either side of the bundle of nerves that he had taken possession of.

"You wanna cum?" He growled into her ear, "I'll make you, I'll own you!"

"Yes," She moaned, "Make me cum Mac."

"Oh fuck yes!"

The predator and his prey came together as his hand squeezed her breast, it was white hot light bursting behind his eyes. He groaned and cursed as her pussy pulled every drop of cum out of him until he collapsed in a heap on top of her. He laid there on top of her as they both caught their breath, there were tears rolling down her face but she didn't make a sound.

"I ain't gonna kill you, the world is a much better place with you in it Layla," He said as he buckled his pants, "Count to five hundred, and don't call the cops or I'll be back, and I won't be in a good mood like I was tonight."

Then he was gone, she didn't even wait to see if he was gone, she didn't count, fuck him. Layla turned and saw her cell phone on the nightstand.

She reached for the phone and dialed 911, he had said not to call the police, or he would come back and kill her, but she knew that was an empty promise. This man would never risk discovery, and she knew that she wasn't his first victim, with any luck she would be his last.

"Help me," She whispered, "There's a man in my house, send the police."

Layla had already formed a plan in her head, she remembered every detail about him, he was blonde, with blue eyes and good looking. She was sure he attracted women with his looks, he could get laid anytime he wanted, but he liked to take it. She would stop him somehow, she got up and reached for her backpack in the closet.

She would go stay with a friend, never come back to this house and look for him in every face she saw on the street. The police would get a full description, he had let her live, that was his mistake, and she was going to be his worse nightmare.

Mac heard sirens as he ran through the woods and in the distance he could see lights, flashlights, but he was far away from them. He had gotten away again, he was twenty-three for twenty-three. Life was good.

 **Thank you for reading, let me know what you think xoxoxox**


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